Some days, Father, I don't know how to get started. Body doesn't want to move. Mind's racing, but legs remain stationary. Stuck. Some days, Father, I feel stuck. Like the flap of an envelope. Stuck. Sealed shut. Gummed up. Ready to paper cut you or someone else if there's any attempt to open me up. Like the corner stamp. Stuck. There. Gummed up. Like the letter inside. Stuck. Bent and creased. Full of words but not ready to be unveiled. Gummed inside. But today, God, I want to talk with you. I want to be an open letter, enveloped by you, stamped with the impress of your image. Undo me. Unglue me. Ungum me, Lord, so I can get started. Amen.